Murder and Wine
by DragonTree
Summary: Godot, Edgeworth, Franziska, Marshall, Adrian and 2 OCs named Sofia and Perry at an engagement party, where the butler's been murdered. Chapter 2 up. Strange findings discovered upstairs.
1. Tomato Soup

While remembering a New Year's Eve murder mystery party, I had a sudden idea to write a fanfic. As Godot.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Perry and Sofia.

"Wine, Mr Godot?" Jake Marshall asked. "Texas special!" in case you're wondering, I'm at Marshall's for his cousin's engagement party.

"No thanks. Italian coffee?" I wasn't really a wine person. I preferred coffee. But, who didn't?

"Coffee? Yes. Italian? No. I've got Texas," of course. I gave in. Better than nothing. I guess. Edgeworth wasn't too keen on the wine, as we discovered earlier. He drank the whole glass (he would, wouldn't he?), but he refused more extremely quickly. I hoped the coffee was just as bitter as the argument earlier (did it actually _matter_ who got to sit on the left side of the sofa? Apparently, yes). "Butler! Butler! Get here!" Marshall yelled up the stairs. There was no reply. "What's he _doing_ up there? He better not be asleep!" and he disappeared upstairs. I moved up closer to Adrian, and immediately regretted it when I stepped on Marshall's cousin's fiancé, Perry's toe.

"That was really rather painful!" he stuttered. The only person who even pretended to pay attention was Sofia (Marshall's cousin). How does she survive? I didn't have time to make another sarcastic comment, as Marshall stomped downstairs, muttering to himself.

"Guess what? Downey's kicked the bucket. They'd shoot him for that in Texas!" but isn't he already dead…anyway, the butler's dead, on Perry and Sofia's anniversary. Brilliant. "Hate to ask, but could someone help with the food?"

"I will!" Adrian replied enthusiastically. Edgeworth and Franziska were whispering disapprovingly at the other side of the room. "Should the rest go through?" Adrian asked. Marshall nodded. The remaining five of us sat in our designated places. I was between Edgeworth and Adrian. Well, Edgeworth and a gap, for now.

**DING DONG!**

That, sadly (from an imaginative point of view), was Marshall's doorbell. With all this technology, surely he could have something a bit more…interesting? _Anyway_, the guy on the other side was Gumshoe. Looks like _someone_ *coughEdgeworthcough*, had called the police. I think he forgot there were three prosecutors (including himself) and a patrolman here already.

"Gumshoe at your service, sir!" he shouted, tripping over a coffee cup on his way in. "Hey! You! Godot! Did you leave that there?" I tipped my chair back, and rested against the wall.

"If I did, would I admit it?" I asked him. He scratched his head. "Do you _really_ have time to randomly accuse me of stuff when there's a dead guy upstairs?" he sprang back to reality, and sprinted upstairs.

"Did anyone tell him where the body _is_?" Marshall asked, carrying a two bowls of tomato soup. I shook my head sadly. Adrian followed with more soup.

Once we were served, had eaten, and said 'congrats' to Perry and Sofia, Gumshoe stumbled (literally) in with some information about Downey's murder.

"All we know is that he was shot, and it definitely _wasn't_ suicide. He was shot in the _right_ temple, yet the pistol was in his _left_ hand," he managed to say, before collapsing in an armchair.

"That's it?" Marshall said, clearly disgusted that that was _all_ the police could find in the time it took to eat (or maybe it's drink?) tomato soup.

"No! There's blood…on the _other side_ of the pillow, pal!" Gumshoe exclaimed. Edgeworth began breathing heavily.

"The pistol…who does it belong to?" Gumshoe was about to answer, when he was cut short by Blithering Idiot from the Early 20th Century, a.k.a. Perry.

"U-um…it really doesn't matter, now does it, Mr Edgeworth? C-can we just, err, get on with the food now? Yes? Good!" I think Perry takes longer to string together a sentence than Gumshoe takes to put together an Autopsy. And that's quite a feat.

"Don't worry, pal. I haven't the faintest idea!" Gumshoe chuckled. "You guys carry on with your thick…juicy…pot roast…" yes, I'm looking forward to it too, but you don't see me standing around aimlessly. I'd be drinking coffee. And I'd probably be sitting down.


	2. Anyone Own A Pistol?

Chapter 2!

Disclaimer: Nope. I still don't own any Capcom.

**Anyone own a Pistol?**

I've got to feel sorry for Gumshoe- this really _was_ brilliant. But the food wasn't the _interesting_ part; the conversation afterwards was. Edgeworth had examined the crime scene personally (I'd help, but I'd have a slight disadvantage), and discovered that the pistol belonged to the victim.

"I suppose I forgot to tell you…" Edgeworth said once we'd finished, "that I examined the water and the tea beside Downey's bed. I discovered different substances in both." what? WHAT? Surely the police couldn't miss this. Actually…

"What type? Say!" demanded Franziska. That mare needs to chill out more.

"That doesn't matter! That is…_impossible_!" Marshall glared at Gumshoe.

"Well, obviously not. In the water was Ethylene Glycol, and in the tea was Ethanol. Two liquids…one a poison, one its antidote," Edgeworth interrupted. Marshall relaxed. "However, this would take two to carry out. Two people on opposite sides…Jake? Perry?" Jake and Perry? Now he mentions it, Marshall _is_ often pretty cold towards him. And who would save him? I think-

"Did I mention there was a note?" Gumshoe laughed, making _me_ forget my brilliant theory.

"A note? A _suicide_ note?!" Sofia asked, shocked.

"Yup! A suicide note, pal! Written by Ms von Karma herself! ...Oops…"

"Fool!" von Karma yelled, and whipped him. Meanie. "Get up there! And find something useful!" Gumshoe dissappeared pretty quickly. Hey! She didn't deny it…hmm…

"Heh…looks like Ms Andrews's been reunited with her _dearly departed cousin_…" Edgeworth commented slyly. Dearly departed cousin? Why does everyone here know stuff except me. All _I_ have is a brilliant (forgotten) theory about whose pistol was used. Actually…

"Do any of you guys…own a pistol?" I asked casually. Some of the others (yes, even the Cold Hearted two) shifted slightly on their chairs (or, in Perry's case, stools).

"Erm, yes, ah, um, Sofia, darling, you own one, I think?" Perry stammered, "Ow!" before being poked sharply in the ribs by Sofia.

"Yes. I do. But it's for protection only," she hissed. "But I don't have it with me now, I left it at home." Marshall was probably the only one who believed her. Left it at home? Terrible excuse, if I do say so.

"I have one. But it's here, and I'd happily show it to a decent officer." von Karma said icily. Better excuse…but, again, she _could_ be lying. And, hang on, did Gumshoe just say that it was _von Karma_ who'd written the suicide note?

"Gumshoe. I need to see the note. No objections, because I'm going to get it one way or another," I announced.

"I can't let you, pal. It's evidence," heh. Time to bring out the 'secret trick'.

"If I can get you say 'twenty', you give me the note," I proposed. Gumshoe agreed. "What's one add one?"

"Two."

"What's six add six?"

"Twelve."

"There! Told you I'd make you say twelve!"

"But you said you'd make me say 'twenty'! …Uuh…" works every time. He reluctantly handed me the note. I unfolded it, and read, in swirly handwriting…

I have done all I can do without putting myself in danger. I believe my half-sister deserves more of my fortune than was given to her.

I know you know it was me, and I don't care. But then, you're not a danger to anyone, are you?

_I've seen too much._


End file.
